Neighbors
by Remy Alva
Summary: Now that Xander is finally set in the way things are, a man he thought was dead-- Larry-- comes back into his life, singing. Slash, post-Chosen, slight-AU.
1. Brown Eyed Boy

**Neighbors**  
**Ch. 1, Brown Eyed Boy**  
Pairing: Xander/Larry  
Rating: PG, this chapter  
Summary: Now that Xander is finally set in the way things are, a man he thought was dead comes back into his life, singing and dancing. Slash, post-Chosen, slight-AU.  
Words: 3834  
Beta: Finn

"What kind of place doesn't have chairs?" Xander asked over the blaringly loud power-pop chunking from the speakers, the three teenagers on stage standing stiff as they labored through their set. The three girls he'd been tasked to watch over for the night patently ignored him, not that he'd expected an answer. Just making conversation, or trying to at least.

They had only been at the club for less than half an hour, but Xander's feet were already beginning to ache from some sort of psychosomatic desire to get the heck out of there. He shifted from foot to foot, doing his best not to rub against any of the other kids that filled the place. He'd never felt so old in his life, and he was still barely in his mid-twenties. The girls took turns rocking back and forth to the music, and turning to gleefully shout comments about the boys, and girl, on stage.

The song ended on a long shrill sour note and, much to Xander's relief, so did their set. The singer-bassist thanked them for watching their set-- just the slightest hint of teenage desperation in his shout-graveled voice-- then they quickly began to dismantle their equipment, hip-hop coming up over the speakers to fill the void.

Xander laughed, "And no MC, either! They just," he waved his hand at the stage, "set up, play, and get off. Where's the show in that?" He turned, a half-smile on his face, to see the girls were already filing out the door with the rest of the crowd.

Demons he could handle. Teenage girls, he still could not.

With a sigh he followed them out to the front street, relishing in the sudden burst of fresh night air, yin to the stale air inside the small club's yang. He swallowed the coolness in gulps.

Deandre, the youngest of the group at fifteen and by far the most talkative, was prattling on about the show as Xander approached. "They were soooo good. I want to have their babies." Xander quirked an eyebrow at this.

"They sucked." Jill, always the direct one. Even the overstylized cartoon character on the back of her shirt reflected the stoic look usually etched on her face.

Deandre shook her head with a smarmy smirk. Grace jumped in, almost literally, "Go to hell, Jill! Seriously, why did you even come?"

Jill shrugged. "Better than staying in all night."

"It's just 'cause you like Xaaaander," Deandre chidded, pointing a playful eye over Jill's shoulder at the man in question. Xander took half a step back, his hands up defensively. Jill turned around quickly, stared at him in muted horror, then turned back to Deandre.

"Fuck you!"

"Whoa!" Xander grabbed Jill's arm as she brought her fist back, ready to strike. "Okay, time out! One band and five minutes in, and I've already got to break up a fight? Seriously, ladies." He glanced down at the red-faced Jill, and playfully winked. "There's no need to fight over the Xan Man."

Grace made a disgusted face and Deandre chuckled. Jill, though, was not so amused. She shook off Xander's arm and stormed away in a huff, quickly coming to a full run. The teenaged crowd behind them watched on, enthralled in the drama.

"Jill!" Xander called. He took a step forward before casting a glare down at the other two girls. "You two. Inside. Now. Don't come out for anything less than the apocalypse."

He began to run after the much quicker teen, shouting back over his shoulder. "I'm serious!"

Ten minutes, four blocks, and an alleyway later Xander finally came across Jill, huddled beside a trash can. "You should be careful. I hear the weirdos come out at night." Xander said.

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. I even wear grown-up pants."

Xander nodded and slid down next to her. "You know, what those girls--"

"I'm a lesbian."

"And now I'm caught off guard."

Jill sighed and looked at Xander, stiff resolution set in her jaw. "I've never told anyone, but since this all happened..." Jill sighed again. "I'm sixteen, before I got 'called' or whatever I was going to a Lutheran school being all repressed and whatever. This happens, my parents find out I'm some sort of demon--"

"That's not—"

"--and I'm a lesbian to boot. One surrounded by hot girls, even!"

It was times like this that Xander had really wished Willow had never left to England to help train girls there. But alas, he and Buffy were the only two in the whole LA area still, so it often came down to awkward-conversations-Xander to try and keep a bunch of hormonal teenage girls with superpowers sane. Mom would be so proud, if she wasn't dead.

Xander clasped an arm around Jill and squeezed her close. "There's nothing wrong with being surrounded by hot girls." Finally, a laugh from Jill. "There's nothing wrong with you at all. Your parents, well, they suck for how they reacted when we came to help you, but at least you have people who care about you."

"They're all bitches."

"They're teenagers." Xander corrected. "I was once one too, and look at me now!" Awkward pause. "Okay, bad example."

Jill remained silent for a moment. "It sucks being gay." She said.

"Tell me about it." Xander said. Jill looked at him strangely, then smiled.

"Something you'd like to tell us?" She teased.

Xander laughed, "No, my young Padawan, but we really ought to be getting back now." He stood and offered her a hand.

* * *

It was in bed with Anya during a spur of the moment game of 'let's tell each other our deepest secrets,' a game Anya toned down exponentially so as not to drive Xander away in fear and revulsion, that the words finally came out. "I like guys."

Anya had looked at him funny. "Well, of course you like 'guys.'" she even quoted 'guys' with her fingers, "You're around women so much you desire male-to-male interaction." She smiled, content with her logic.

It was more than that, though, but Xander let it go. He liked looking at guys, but he loved women, and more importantly he loved Anya. There was no reason to push the subject.

After Anya died, Xander was empty and alone for a long time. Still was, and imagined he always would be. Willow, when Tara died, went all crazy dark-Willow and nearly destroyed the world. At most, Xander destroyed a box of donuts to himself, but the same sadness remained inside him.

It was during one of his phone calls with Willow, one they had at least once every few nights, that he said it again.

"Remember that time I told you to gay me up?" He asked, between laughs from their shared memories.

"Oh yeah, after that demon lady tried to sacrifice you." They both laughed, though neither could really understand why it was so funny all things considered.

"Well," Xander said, taking a breath. "I was only half kidding."

There was a long pause. "What about Anya?" Xander was just glad she skipped past the obvious questions, probably from personal experience.

"I said half."

"Bi?"

"I guess." And they left it that. It wasn't as if Xander had any experience to speak of, but he was just glad he had someone to talk about it with finally, now that he could admit it to himself.

* * *

"Looks like the show's already started." Jill said. The crowd that was in front of the club was now gone, and muffled music wafted down the street.

Xander perked his ears. "Maybe I'm crazy, but it sounds like they don't suck either."

Inside, Xander only threw a quick glance at the stage-- glad to see some adults who knew how to play, this time around-- before pushing around the edges of the crowd, sidling up next to the other girls when he found them. The indie-pop trio on stage seemed to have the crowd moving, a sharp change from the last group.

"What band is this?" He asked Deandre during a more quiet part of the song, but was quickly shushed.

When the song came to an end a few seconds later, she turned and said, "The Bronze, now shush!" before turning back toward the stage.

Xander raised an eyebrow. "The Bronze?"

He looked up on stage and saw a face he recognized. Sure he was older, had more scruff than he did before, but it's hard to not recognize the face that made your junior high years hell. "Larry?"

And boy, could that man sing and play guitar. Larry, Xander noticed, was not the person he was in high school and it showed. He was relaxed on stage, loose, happy-- different than the stuck up jock Xander remembered.

To say he was captivated was an understatement. Xander was baffled. Enthralled. Suspicious, and glad to see a familiar face, despite their past. But most of all, he was utterly confused. Last he'd heard, Larry had died the night of graduation. He hadn't seen his body himself, but as far as he knew it was true. Unless... oh god.

Was he a vampire? Xander's heart raced suddenly. Could the whole band be vampires? If so, everyone in here was in a lot of trouble. He had to do something, but he had to be sure before he alerted the girls. They were well trained warriors, but not so much with the subtly.

"Wait here," he told each of the girls as the song came to an end. Without another word, he began to push through the thick crowd.

"This next song," Larry said into the microphone, his words coming out a little muffled through the speakers, "is about a very special guy I used to know who helped me through a tough time in my life. It's called Brown Eyed Boy."

Larry turned his back to the crowd and counted off with the drummer, before breaking into a painfully folk-rock-come-indie ballad.

Xander pushed through the crowd as best he could, but found himself pushed further and further to the side of the stage. He kept his eye on Larry as best he could as he sang his heart out about something, Xander couldn't understand over the loudness of the music, only made worse the closer he got to stage. If Larry were a vampire, Xander decided, he'd become one of those dangerous suave ones, captivating the audience with his smooth talking and hip gyrating. Bastard had to be stopped.

As Xander got nearer the stage, the band went through the second round of the chorus, the crowd singing along this time, Larry grinning ear to ear.

"Brown eyed boy, brown eyed boy

Look what you've done to me

You let me from my cage, and

Pushed me to be just me."

Xander pushed closer to the stage, getting nearer with each word.

"Brown eyed boy, brown eyed boy

Just see what you've done for me

If I could only find you

I'd thank you proper and sweet."

Xander lost his footing as he finally got to the edge of the stage and went tumbling down, landing right at the feet of the bands bassist, a tall thin man who looked none too pleased but kept playing. Xander looked up apologetically and pushed himself to his feet. As he did, he realized he'd overshot his goal and wound up on the stage.

Turning around only made his stomach sink as he looked out over the sea of confused and amused faces. He felt his face burn red, an unconscious goofy nervous grin stretching across his face. He did the only thing he could think to do, given the situation. He danced.

Arms pumping, feet twisting, and altogether the most failed attempt to look nonchalant anyone in the audience had ever seen.

The music came to a crawl, the guitar dropping away all together. Xander paused mid-fist pump and looked over at Larry, who looked at him bewildered. Xander smirked self-conciously.

"Xander?" Larry's face lit up. "XAN!" He looked out over the audience, jittery with excitement. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Brown Eyed Boy I was just singing about!" Larry turned to look at at Xander and mouthed 'holy crap.'

The audience broke out into laughter and applause, a chorus of 'oooOOOoooh's' came from the general direction the girls were at. Xander's stomach dropped out the bottom of him. He looked at Larry again, who was suddenly grabbing him in for a hug.

Xander attempted to dodge, but it was too late. The guitar crushing between them, Xander was in the tightest human-based bear hug of his life. If Larry were a vampire, going by the enthusiasm in the hug, Xander ought to have been dead.

The guitar squealed.

* * *

"What happened to your eye, man?" It was colder now, despite Xander's whole body still burning red out of embarrassment. Larry had finished his set, grinning the whole time and casting his eyes at Xander from time to time-- which made Xander even redder still. After the band broke down their equipment, Larry asked him to hang out in the back parking lot with him while the girls finished watching the other bands.

"There was a... thing." Xander shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping his face down.

"Like, demon thing?" Larry asked, taking a swig off a bottle of water. Xander nodded. "Geez, man, I'm sorry about that. I can't even imagine."

"What about you?" Xander asked, trying to be as nonchalant as he could. "I'd heard you died graduation night."

Larry choked on his water. "What?" He looked at Xander as if he'd grown an extra head-- which, technically he had at one point, but that was neither here nor there. "No, no, I-- I'm still here! Why'd you think I died?"

Xander shrugged and leaned against Larry's car. "Well, I'd heard things. And nobody ever saw you after that night, so..." He pushed himself off the car again. "I don't know, I just heard."

Larry laughed. "Nah, man. I moved. I got messed up bad, was in the hospital for a few nights, but after that my parents said 'Enough of this crap,' and we left town for good."

Xander nodded, appreciative that at least some people had common sense.

A car pulled up alongside them, the bassist and drummer for the band were inside with most of the equipment. "Hey Lar, we'll see you tomorrow, alright?" He stuck his hand out the car window.

Larry slapped the bassist five. "Alright, cool. See you later."

"Have fun with your boyfriend!" The drummer shouted from the passenger seat as the car pulled away, the duo inside laughing maniacally. Larry laughed too, until he caught Xander's eye and clamped his mouth shut.

After a moment, Larry perked up. "You know, Greg-- my bassist-- he's from a town called Sunnyvale, with a V."

"I've heard of that place." Xander said, smirking.

"It's crazy, because when we first met we thought we were from each others same town for the first few days. Two totally different places, but we just didn't get it." Larry chuckled. "But yeah!" He motioned toward Xander. "I see you finally escaped! When'd that happen?"

"You hear how Sunnydale is now Sunnydale crater?"

Larry nodded. "Yeah, some sort of plate tectonic bullshit the media put out there."

"Yeah," Xander agreed, "I was on the last bus out of town."

"Wow." Larry sat on the hood of his car and slapped the spot next to him for Xander to sit. Xander chose to lean.

"What about you?" Xander asked. "I mean, you're not dead! What've you been doing?"

Larry shrugged. "This, that. The band just got done with our summer tour."

"It's November," Xander chimed.

"An extended summer tour. This was actually our unofficial welcome home show."

Xander nodded. The awkwardness of the situation was not lost on him. Not so much the 'wow, he was dead and now he's not' awkwardness, nor the 'this guy used to beat me up' sort. But the 'this is surprisingly not awkward, just guys catching up' kind of awkward. The sort you could only have from shared secrets and traumas.

Larry elbowed Xander. "So you ever, uh... You know?"

Xander looked at him funny for a second, before realizing what he was talking about. "Come out?" Larry nodded. "Oh, no, no." Xander laughed. "I never had a chance to explain. See, I thought you were a werewolf back then!"

Larry laughed. "Really now?"

Xander nodded. "Yup. And it was my job to try and get the truth out of you."

Larry uh-huh'ed as he took a swig of water.

"Because I was once possessed by a hyena, so we all thought maybe you and I could connect like that."

"You all?"

"Buffy, Willow, and I."

Larry's face lit up. "Oh yeah! How are those girls?"

"Long story."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Xander waved his arms, "No, no! Not 'long story' bad, just long story." Larry nodded, and the both of them went quiet. Larry didn't look at Xander for a while, seemingly caught up in thought. Xander kept glancing at him, trying to decide what action to take next.

Here was a man who understood what Xander had gone through, but wasn't tainted by being too close either. It was weird, because for once he could speak freely without having to make it into a lesson for one of the girls, or have it be a shared memory with someone who had gone with it already, and didn't want any reliving. It was different. Refreshing. Yet all too heavy, for some reason.

"I almost got married." Xander found himself saying.

"To a girl?" Larry chuckled.

Xander nodded. "Woman, more like it. Ex-demon, actually." He corrected himself.

"No shit?" Larry looked at him, impressed.

"Yup." He paused. "She died."

Larry didn't say anything for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"She died a hero." Xander said, and meant it.

Larry sat in silence for a moment, then cleared his throat. "So did my boyfriend. His name was Marshall."

Xander listened in silence as Larry told him his story. Larry did the same when Xander told his.

* * *

It wasn't until Xander got home with the girls that he realized he hadn't gotten Larry's number. It hadn't occurred to him at the time. The girls were tired and ready to go, and Larry was all too polite and willing to oblige them. Now, it seemed, he'd lost contact with Larry again now that he knew the man was still alive.

Inside it was noisy. With almost a dozen girls living in in the cramped five bedroom house-- not an easy find for a decent price in the outer-LA area-- there was never a moment of silence. The fact that they were all being homeschooled by Buffy and Xander, neither of whom had any desire to relive high school so thoroughly either, only helped add to the anxiety of playing as de facto watcher for these budding Slayers.

But for now, Xander's duties were done for the night and the girls were officially in charge of themselves. Xander made his way into the kitchen to grab something to drink, and maybe a tylenol while he was at it. He chuckled at the note scrawled on the refrigerator door's whiteboard--

Gone slayin'!

Buffy's writing. He pulled the door open, grabbed himself a warm can of coke-- obviously the girls had just run out not long ago and had just been resupplied-- and made his escape from the chaos inside. As he opened the door he heard the sound of something crashing deep in the house followed by a mousey "Sorry," something he'd obviously have to fix later in the day. He stepped through the door into the cool night air.

So Larry was alive. Not just alive, but happy, and near somewhere. He could, Xander thought, try and find the band's myspace. But, well, that might seem impersonal. But if he looked Larry up directly it might come off stalker'y. Xander wasn't a stalker. Old Xander, sure, but not eye-patch-wearing-leader-of-teenage-girls Xander.

Part of him wondered why he cared so much. Sure, it was nice seeing an old friendly face from the old town. But he didn't have time for friends. He couldn't just go grab a drink any time, not with his hands full at home. He just couldn't take the time to mosey out across town to hang with somebody he still only barely knew, even if he was scruffy and cute.

Xander caught that last line of thought and paused. So, he thought to himself, the truth comes out of the closet. He sighed. This was not something he was ready to deal with just now. Or ever. He could admit to himself that the likes of Scott Bakula and that guy from Firefly made him happy, just as much as Jessica Alba did. But those were people he didn't have any real chance of running into in person, not to mention have half a chance with. He couldn't handle a crush like this, not now. He had to squelch it when it was still in it's early stages, something he was sadly a veteran at.

So caught up in his thoughts, Xander didn't hear the car pulling down the street, or stopping across the way. He didn't hear the car door open, or the steps of someone walking toward him. It wasn't until he heard his name that he finally caught on that someone was there.

"Xander?" He looked up and saw a hulking figure, backlit by the street light. "Oh, thank god it was you." Larry laughed. "Last thing I wanted was to freak out any of my neighbors this late at night."

Xander looked at him, baffled. "Wh-- What the Leonard Nimoy are you doing here?"

Larry stood over Xander now, grinning like an idiot. "I should ask you the same thing." He pointed to the house across the street. "I live right over there. I just haven't been home since I've been on tour."

Xander's heart sank and skipped a beat at the same time. "Oh."


	2. The Torso Lying At Your Feet

**NEIGHBORS  
Ch. 2, The Torso Lying At Your Feet**

Pairing: Xander/Larry  
Rating: R, this chapter for a brief time. PG for the rest.  
Summary: Now that Xander is finally set in the way things are, a man he thought was dead comes back into his life, singing and dancing. Slash, post-Chosen, slight-AU.  
Authors Note: When I hear the band The Bronze in my head, just know that I hear them as the kind of band that would play with the band Destruction Island.  
Words: 4633  
Beta: Finn

After that first night, Xander didn't really see Larry a whole lot for a while. Occasionally he'd hear or notice his car come and go, or he'd see the lights on in his house-- but for the most part, it was all quiet on the Larry front.

Not that he didn't mind. The less he saw of that guy and his scruffy face, the better, Xander thought. He'd already heard the rumors circling amongst the girls, about the mysterious guy from the band, though none had bothered to ask him directly. For the most part it seemed all in good fun, a way for the girls to vicariously live out their own fantasies through storytelling, and Xander didn't entirely mind it. He just wished it didn't hit quite so close to heart.

He was in one of the upstairs bedrooms taking measurements on the closet door, trying to figure a way to better reinforce the cheap pinewood frame to better suit day-to-day slayer life, when Buffy tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, a bit surprised.

"Why, hello, my lady."

"I heard you made a friend." She smiled brightly, with a little bounce to emphasize 'friend.'

"Friend?"

"From a band the other night."

Xander decided to go for nonchalance, something he was so plainly impeccable with, letting the measuring tape zip back into its holder with a pop before stuffing it in his pocket. "Oh, that night."

"Well?" She asked, her eyes going wide with anticipation.

Xander jotted a measurement in a notepad. "Well what?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and slapped him in the chest, making him to wince. "You big dope, why haven't you told me? Are you gonna ever talk to him again?"

"I think you're making more out of it than is really there. And I haven't told you because, if you remember, you brought home that yellow goopy demon thing that night and, honestly, between the punching and the clean-up party after, I sort of just forgot." Xander lied, deftly dipping around Buffy, toward the hallway.

"Come on, Xan." Buffy said, chasing after him. "You need more guy friends. With Giles gone--"

"Giles wasn't a friend, he was Giles."

Buffy rolled her eyes, stomping down the stairs after him. "And everyone else gone, too; I mean, come on Xander, you need to get that testosterone flowing somehow."

Xander scoffed. "My testosterone and I are flowing just fine, thank you." There was a chuckle from a passing slayerette. "And besides, we've got our hands full with these girls. I've got no time for friends."

"Says the guy who spends most of his free time fixing things that aren't even broken yet."

"'Yet' being the keyword."

Buffy quickly stepped around Xander, putting a hand on the door leading to the garage and stomping the floor with her foot. "You hear that?" She asked. "That's me putting my foot down. Now, I'm going to take your handy-dandy notebook," she said as she grabbed the pad, "and your measuring doo-dad."

"Measuring tape," Xander corrected with a defeated sigh, handing it over.

"Now," she said in the same authoritative voice she usually reserved to remind slayerettes to try really hard to not shatter any more plates when it's their turn to do dishes, "You're going to go upstairs to take a shower-- don't worry, I'll make sure the girls leave you alone-- and then you're going to go out tonight. i_Alone/i_." Too much emphasis on the word 'alone' for Xander's comfort. It sent a shiver down his spine.

"But--"

"No 'but's,' mister." She said as she turned him around and shoo'ed him back toward the staircase. "Tonight you're going to go out and make some friends."

"You're weirding me out, right now." Xander protested over his shoulder.

"You smell, now shoo!"

* * *

Frankly, a good wank session was impossible in a house full of young girls with heightened senses and the ability to subtly mock you about it in front of other teenage girls. Even if you did it in the shower, they always had a way of knowing what you were up to and tended to avoid said shower like the plague for a few days-- something nobody in the house wanted. But Little Xander was standing at full salute as Big Xander stood under the scorching hot jets, steam billowing over the side of the curtain and sticking to every surface.

There was a knot in his stomach, a sort of nervous anxiety. Xander couldn't recall the last time he'd felt that way. He had felt fear for a long time, at least for the first couple of years after Buffy came along. Then after that it was just a constant state of ready-- no matter what jumped out, or where, he'd seen it before and had survived it. But this was different.

Anticipation. That's what this was.

For once, he didn't know what to do. He didn't have any idea what to expect. For the first time in almost half his life, he was doing something that probably wouldn't involve demons. He'd feel better if he knew there were going to be demons. Even little ones.

He looked down at Little Xander and sighed. After a moments hesitation he gave up on decency and gripped himself, figuring he was male, and he'd earned this right.

At first he thought about random women, doing his best to keep it clear of anybody he actually knew. The lovely Ms. Jessica Alba was a good start, and it only got better when Ms. Kiera Knightly entered through the door that wasn't there, wearing only a nightie. Beautiful start.

His mind wandered, and suddenly the light brown hair on Ms. Knightly turned into blonde curls and Xander was watching Anya riding him, sweat dripping down her face. She smiled at him, and he felt good. Real good. It only served him better to imagine the little tricks she always did. Her twists, leaning just this way and that, and god he could almost feel it.

She crawled off of him, and moved down his body, engulfing him in her mouth. Xander swallowed back a mental moan, feeling himself start to tense. She started doing his favorite trick with her tongue, and Xander couldn't help but wonder how it would feel if Larry were doing it.

He could feel Larry's short cropped beard brushing his thighs, making his spine tingle. He looked down to see the bulky man kneeling before him, sweat through dripping the hair Xander imagined coated his chest and stomach and trailing down further still; he watched the beef of his arms as his hands stroked him up and down, and the hungry look in his eyes.

It almost hurt to not cry out when he came. Almost instantly he felt a pang of regret about cumming to the thought of Larry instead of Anya, but his mind was still foggier than the bathroom itself. He blinked a few times, getting used to the light again. He glanced at the wall of the shower and sighed, splashing some water to clean it off.

His body felt better, but that knot still sat in his stomach.

* * *

"Feel better?" Buffy asked as Xander entered the kitchen, his hair still a little wet, donning his favorite snarky shirt and jeans. He'd almost thought to dress up, but figured the more inconspicuous he looked the better his chances of not being noticed by anyone.

He shrugged. "I guess."

Buffy leaned on the counter as she took another bite of cold pizza. "So," she said as she chewed, "do you remember the name of the band?"

Xander sat down across the way from her, snagging the slice from her hand as she went for another bite. She gave him a 'I'm Not Happy With What You Just Did, But I Guess You Can Have It' face, stood and went to the fridge for another slice. Xander hesitated, wondering just how much she already knew, and how much he should say. "Um, they were called The Bronze."

Buffy popped her head up over the side of the fridge. "Oh! Like the club!" She stood and closed the door, holding a slice of pepperoni pizza and a carton of orange juice in her hand. "That's kind of a coincidence, don't'cha think?"

Xander nodded, stuffing his mouth with another bite. "Just a little," he mumbled.

"So who were you talking to?" She asked, plopping back in her chair. "You're not usually Mr. Talkative with strange people. Not anymore, at least."

Xander did his best not to feel insulted. "Well, actually, he was an old friend from Sunnydale."

Buffy's face went from casual to wide-eyed-excitement in no time flat. "Shut up!" Xander nodded. "Who? Do I know him? Is he single?"

"Larry, you did, and I think so, but you're not his type."

Buffy blinked. "Wait, what? Larry?" She paused, staring down at the counter in thought. "That name is familiar."

Xander took a slow breath. "We thought he was a werewolf before we knew it was Oz. He helped us fight the--"

"Didn't the Mayor kill him?" She asked, as if she hadn't heard anything she just said.

Xander shrugged and ate the crust of his pizza. "That's what I thought too, but apparently not. His parents just decided to move after that whole incident."

"Smart people." Buffy mused.

"But anyway, he actually lives in this town."

"Small world."

"Yeah. Actually..." Xander felt his face get hot, bracing himself for Buffy's reaction to what he had to say next, "He lives right across the street."

There was a pause while Buffy stared at him. "Shut. Up. He lives right over there," she waved her hand frantically, "and you haven't told me?"

Xander shrugged, wishing he had at least one more bite to keep his mouth busy so he didn't have to respond. But, being Xander, not-talking-for-his-own-good was not his strong suit. "I dunno why I didn't tell you, I'm sorry, but it's weird and complicated."

She quirked an eyebrow. "How?" She paused, analyzing him. "Wait." Her eyes lit up. "Do you like him? Like, like-like?"

Xander didn't respond.

"Oh my god! You like-like him!" She said louder than Xander wished she had. He caught himself worrying that Larry might have even heard him. She was outright laughing now. "Are you serious?"

"You're the one saying it."

"Why do all my friends go gay on me?" She laughed.

Xander furrowed his brow. "I did not go gay," he protested, more annoyed than angry.

"You, Willow..." she counted on her fingers.

"Willow didn't go gay," Xander argued, "she just fell in love with a woman."

"So she went gay." Buffy said plainly.

Xander rolled his eye, feeling anger rush through him. "Just because she started being with a woman doesn't mean she went gay. It means she fell in love with someone for who they were. This is stupid, I mean-- I'm not gay."

Buffy raised her hands defensively. "Whoa, okay, sorry. I was just kidding, don't have to get all Tom Cruise on me."

Xander took a breath, counted to ten in his head, and sighed as he stood up. "You know, going out tonight sounds like a good idea." He headed toward the front door, feeling stupid for his outburst.

Before he could apologize himself, he heard Buffy whisper behind him, "Sorry."

* * *

The evening air was cool again, just as it had been for the past few nights. Strange, considering it was only autumn, and it was Southern California. Usually the LA area's seasons went summer, summer, not so summer, and two-week rainy season. But it was downright chilly lately, and part of Xander wanted to go back home for his sweater. But he was already a fifteen minute walk from home, so he decided to forget about it.

He didn't have any direction or destination in mind. He certainly didn't know where anything was in the area, and he wasn't sure where, even had he intended to, he would go to mingle with society. Hell, he'd even given up drinking so he didn't know where the bars were in this new town.

Even though the whole lot of them had lived in this neighborhood for nearly half a year-- a year if you counted the last house they were in before they got evicted-- Xander was never aware of just how little he knew of his surroundings. He could tell you where any cemetery was, even the distance down to the foot, and which alley's were particularly dangerous; but beyond the local hardware story and supermarket, this place was completely new to him.

On a whim, Xander decided to take a left at a corner and see what lay down that way. If nothing else, he decided, he could get to know the lay of the land better. Couldn't hurt.

Every few blocks he found himself taking another turn, getting himself more and more lost as he went. It was now really dark, and most of the residential streets he found himself on had no streetlights. Eventually Xander began regretting his decision to wander aimlessly, considering just how truly lost he was now.

Moreso, he regretted forgetting his cell phone on the front table at home.

He tried to recalculate his footsteps in his mind, to figure where he had turned and when. If he thought hard enough, maybe he could find where a main street was and work out how to get home from there. But then he realized that some of the streets had curved, and, that at one point he had gone through an alleyway on a whim (hoping for a bit of excitement, but was sadly let down) but wasn't sure where.

A small part of him began to panic. His feet were getting tired, he was cold as hell, and none of the streets looked familiar in the least. For the first time in a long while, Xander was truly nervous.

Moving along, he began to hear a familiar sounding song in the distance. As he went, he realized that it was that song Larry's band had been playing when he crashed the stage. He kept moving, focusing his ears to the sound wafting on the chilly breeze.

He almost lost it when he forgot to take a turn, but quickly fixed his mistake. He soon realized that the music was coming from the opposite side of the block from where he had first heard it. As he got closer, he could begin to make out the words:

"Brown eyed boy

Brown eyed boy

Look what--"

There was a faltering in the music, and the drums dropped away, followed by the rest. Xander's heart raced as he realized it was indeed a live band playing, then dropped when he realized he couldn't figure where it had come from. He knew he was nearby, but couldn't see anything on the street to give him any indication.

There was the sudden sound of someone slapping the bass, and a rim-roll on the drums, and the music was gone again. With that, Xander found himself completely lost again.

He slowed his pace down, not sure what else to do. He didn't recognize Larry's car anywhere, and there was nothing else he could have used to figure where he was going.

Then, like the gates of Heaven, the front door to one of the houses opened, a house on his side of the street, pouring light onto the porch. Out stepped a figured, silhouetted by the light-- not Larry, but the bands bassist, Greg. He was followed by the drummer, and lastly, Larry himself. The porch light went on as the drummer lit up a cigarette.

Xander's heart thumped, and he wished he could control it. But now that he had the house confirmed, Xander had no idea what to do next. So he kept walking.

He started getting nervous as he approached the house, not wanting to be the one to say anything first. That'd be too stalkerish, he realized. Like Xander had been trying to find him anyway-- though, at the end of things, that's exactly what it was. Oh god, he thought to himself, was he really stalking him? Was he a stalker? Creepy.

He heard them laughing, and as he began to pass the house, he glanced left. Just as he did Larry glanced at the passing stranger and, realizing it was no stranger at all, his face lit up. "Holy crap! Xander!" He waved.

Xander, pretending he totally was just passing by, totally not stalking, glanced over and gave his best 'Oh Hey!' look. He waved back.

Larry waved him over, "Hey, come over here!" Xander, not being one to be impolite, quickly made his way across the lawn to the porch.

Larry forewent Xander's casual wave and grabbed him in a hug. Xander felt himself go beet red, and smiled at the other two. "How's it going?"

"What're you doing way out here in this part of town?" Larry asked, energy high either from playing music or seeing Xander-- Xander tried not to think about it.

"Just out for a walk."

Larry blinked. "Long walk." They all stood in silence, until Larry charged up again. "Oh! You were never introduced. Sorry, guys this is Xander--"

"We know," the drummer laughed.

"Xander, this is Kale," he pointed at the shorter drummer, "and Greg." Pointing to the bassist this time.

Xander shook each of their hands. "I prefer Gore, actually." Said Greg.

"Gore?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, not 'cause I'm all twisted," he explained. "It's just an old nickname. Too many Greg's in school, so kids started calling me by the middle part of my name. Rory was too girly."

Xander nodded. "Kind of like Xander." He said.

Larry snorted. "Whoa, ha, never really thought about that."

Xander smirked, keeping his head low, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Larry obviously noticed this and said, "Damn, you must be cold, come in and warm up."

He opened the door and led them all inside, placing a warm hand on Xander's back.

* * *

Xander all too happily accepted Larry's offer for a ride home. When Xander pointed out that he hadn't seen his car, Larry just laughed and said it was in the shop. "I've got a loaner," he said.

"Your friends are pretty cool," Xander said and meant it. For the first time in a long time he felt good about being around people, laughing and listening to their stories-- he bit his tongue about his own tales, not wanting to ruin the night.

Larry laughed. "They're good guys, makes it easier to spend a few months on the road with them."

Xander leaned back in his seat, letting his legs stretch a bit. "So how long have you been doing this music thing?" He asked. He'd never known Larry to have any interest in anything but sports and, to an extent, making everyone's life hell-- in a non-literal fashion. It still tripped him out seeing how different he had become. Mature.

"I've actually played violin since I was six," Larry said. "Don't laugh."

"Too late," Xander chuckled.

Larry went on unperturbed. "When I was in high school I kind of focused on the sports thing, but I always played something. We had a piano at home, and if nothing else I had my guitar."

Xander felt himself become both envious, and awed. He did his best not to show it, but it solidly welled up inside him. He was a little upset that his missing eye didn't allow him to be more subtle about looking at Larry.

Larry went on, "Actually, after graduation it became part of my physical therapy to do things to keep my finger dexterous. That's when I really took music seriously. Hey," he said, looking over at Xander. "You hungry? It's late, but it was a while ago you came by."

Xander nodded, "Yeah, totally."

They stopped in a chain restaurant, one of those 24-hour places that seem to always have the same sorts of food. When they were seated, Larry looked at Xander. "I've got this, so don't worry about it. Get whatever you want."

Xander furrowed his eyebrows, "It's okay," he started to say. Larry held up a hand and cracked a smile.

"My treat."

Xander nodded, and ordered the cheapest thing on the menu when the waitress came. They sat in silence for a while, Larry leaning against the window and Xander with his arms on the table.

"So I meant to ask," Larry said quietly. Xander almost didn't realize he was saying something at first. "What was with you and those girls? Don't tell me you're a perv."

Xander laughed, one loud and hard HA! "God, no. No. Nothing like that." He leaned in, conspiratorially. "I can't go into a lot of detail, but I can give hints."

Larry perked his eyebrows, intrigued. "Guessing games are fun."

Xander nodded, and smirked. "Well, have you heard anything about girls around the world suddenly getting really strong and doing really crazy things?"

Larry nodded. "Yeah, for a while. It died down a lot recently, actually."

"Well," Xander went on, "there you go."

Larry looked at Xander for while. For a minute, Xander thought maybe he was being too vague. Then, "So what you're saying is you watch those girls?"

Xander nodded. "I'm a de facto Watcher, yeah."

Larry nodded, mulling the thought over in his head. "Crazy." Then he looked at Xander and smiled, "Though I guess you have the credentials, what with Buffy and all that fun stuff."

Xander smiled, then wondered to himself just how much Larry had figured out in his time at Sunnydale. Enough, obviously, just as most of the graduating class had.

They went silent again as their food was delivered, and ate contently for a time. Xander kept grabbing glances of Larry, stooped over his plate, just like he did when he was a neanderthalic high schooler. Xander chuckled softly to himself at the memory, which was no longer painful but just a memory.

When their eating slowed down, they got to talking again. Xander asked more about the music stuff, and Larry gladly obliged. Xander had never known how things like that went. He knew Oz, but even that was kind of a separate animal-- no pun intended-- from knowing musician-Oz.

There was a lull in the conversation, and Xander wasn't sure what else to ask. Part of his brain wanted to share things, but wasn't sure what to talk about; his life had been such a blur, he didn't know where to begin. So, for reasons unknown to himself, he said the one thing he'd recently grown more solid about. "So I'm bi." The moment he said it, he felt stupid.

Larry looked at him, not smiling and not condemning. Not anything, really. It lasted a few seconds, but Xander felt like he was under scrutiny for an eternity.

"Really?" Larry asked. There was no emotion in his voice. Xander had not expected this reaction-- nor did he expect to say anything just yet, but there that went.

Xander nodded, keeping his eye down on his food.

"Well, congrats." Larry said, a smile in his voice. "And here I was, completely convinced of your straightness."

Xander was glad he was laughing.

"And finally, I have a queer friend in this town!" He said. Xander, though relieved, wished Larry would quit getting louder.

"Well, I've never been with a guy, I mean." Xander said. Larry deflated just a little.

"Really?"

Xander shrugged again. He found himself shrugging a lot these days. "Well, I was with Anya for a long time, and I only recently kind of became okay with the idea. Not that I had a problem before!" He said, doing his best backtracking.

Larry nodded.

"Sorry, it's weird to talk about. You're like, only the third or fourth person I've told." Xander kept his eye down, figuring that avoiding eye contact was the best solution for this situation. He didn't want to give Larry any impressions, though honestly, he thought, what else could he be thinking?

Larry placed a hand on Xander's. Calm, reassuring. "Xander, look at me." Xander did. "It's cool, you know? It's scary coming out, no matter what. It's scarier as you get older, I heard-- granted, I heard that on Nip/Tuck, and that was a dream sequence... But still! It's hard."

Xander opened his mouth to say something, but Larry pushed on. "Whether it was an accident or not, you're the first person I ever came out to. As weird of a situation as it was, you totally helped me out. Hell, I wrote that song about it," Larry laughed. "I'm just glad you feel comfortable enough to say something to me. Honored, even."

Xander smirked, trying his best to not get goofy or anything. He felt weird, light, good, but still completely frozen in fear.

After they paid-- Larry had left a good sized tip for their waitress, who had cracked jokes all night for them-- Larry drove home. He pulled into his driveway, and after turning off the car, neither moved.

Larry was the first to speak. "I have to say something," his seriousness made Xander nervous. "I just need to be honest, okay?"

Xander nodded, looking straight at Larry. "Okay."

Larry took a breath, his eyes down at the steering wheel. "I don't know what you're thinking, or hoping for, but just..." He laughed, and look at Xander for a moment before looking back down at the wheel seriously. "I want to be your friend. You're a good guy, and I wish we'd had been real friends back in those days. But," he sighed, "if you're looking for something more I'm not ready for that right now."

Xander's heart sank, but he made sure his face didn't show it.

"I know Marshall died two years ago, but I just can't..." He stopped abruptly and held his breath. Xander didn't move, not even when it looked like Larry was about to pass out.

Suddenly he let out all the air at once, and cracked a big smile. "Sorry to get all serious, but I just had to be honest."

Xander nodded, and cracked an equally large grin. "Nah man, don't worry about it. It wasn't like that." Then quieter, "It's cool."

Larry nodded and leaned into Xander for an awkward car-hug. Xander reciprocated, taking the moment to remember it, knowing he wouldn't get another chance. It was a heartfelt hug, the kind that really means something. And then it was over.

They both stepped out of the car. "Hey," Larry said, "Stop by any time. I mean it."

Xander nodded, "Totally," and waved as he turned to head across the street.

He ignored the flutter of blinds and curtains as a dozen young girls pretended like they weren't watching the whole thing.


End file.
